


The Late Show

by inkandchocolate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-19
Updated: 2010-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:08:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandchocolate/pseuds/inkandchocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>57 channels and nothing's on</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Late Show

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes: Prompt from sweptawaybayou: "Late night/predawn; can't sleep"

Dean studies the eerie whiteness of his feet on the dingy carpet of yet another hotel room floor. "I think I'm starting to glow in the dark," he says as he leans down to look closer. "Yeah, I am. It's official."

Sam grunts as he stares at the ceiling, eyes wide open and gritty from fatigue. There's a good reply to that remark somewhere in his head. It just requires too much effort to make the actual words with his mouth.

"Another brilliant rebuttal from Sam Winchester," Dean says as he looks over his shoulder and sees Sam lying there. "Dude, I'm bored. You're supposed to entertain me when I'm bored."

Sam looks up, the energy exerted in lifting his head from the pillow more than he was planning to actually spend before he slept for at least 13 hours straight. "What are you, five?" he asks, aware that he sounds not much older than that himself right now.

Dean raises one eyebrow. "You're becoming a pain in the ass, have I told you that lately?"

"It's four in the morning, Dean. Watch porn, leave me alone." Sam turns onto his side, closes his eyes tight, flails one arm over his shoulder to try and find the other pillow so he can put it over his head. Failing that, he lets his arm rest over his ear to drown out any noise Dean might make.

Or worse, any noise from the porn he just told Dean to watch.

Dean watches this and grins to himself. He leans over Sam, pressing himself against his brother's legs as he feigns an inability to find the remote. "Permission from Amish boy to watch porn? Should I bust out the holy water, make sure you're not possessed?"

"Fuck off," Sam mutters, eyes scrunched shut even tighter, jaw clenched when Dean chuckles at him.

"Technically? No. But if there's something really worthwhile on, I *will* be jerking off. With your blessing." Dean sees the color rise in what little of Sam's cheek and neck is visible and feels vindicated. And entertained.

And more than a little eager to see what's on this crappy hotel's pay per view offering for what they politely term 'adult entertainment.'

There's not much and he's annoyed all over again to discover that he's seen three of the four titles.

"Don't they have to change these things more than once a year?" he mutters as he looks at the tiny pictures beside the titles and tries to remember if any of them are worth watching again.

He scowls, chooses the one title that he hasn't already gotten off to in some other state and shoves himself back on the bed, legs spread as he feels Sam's thigh against his own. Dean holds his breath as the heat makes him shiver, waits to see if Sam's going to react then breathes out slowly as the movie begins to play on the TV.

It's standard porn, really - all the girls are tired looking and their tits defy gravity when they move; the music is offensive and the dialogue is bad enough for Dean to hit the mute button ten seconds in. He rolls his shoulders some as he's plunged into the silence of the room with naked people getting down to their business of fucking for his entertainment. Beside him, Sam tenses, his long legs drawing up, then sliding down again as if to move is to admit defeat.

"Sorry, Sammy, were you listening to that?" Dean asks, staring not at the blonde bouncing on some guy's dick but at the form of his brother in the bed next to him, lit by the flickering light of the TV. "Because I know how much you love that stimulating conversation. I can turn it up if you want me to."

There's a low growl that might be another invitation for Dean to fuck off, but Dean can't be sure. The only thing he is sure of is that he's way more interested in the way Sam's suddenly trying to hide from him than he is in someone else's idea of hot sex.

He doesn't want to think about that too much, either. Dean's gotten very good at dismissing things that harsh his good time. It makes life much more interesting, and really, considering what he and his brother do every day – and every night – it's pretty much a defense mechanism he doesn't want to screw with.

"Sammy," he says again and this time he leans back on the bed, rests on one arm, close enough to Sam's body to touch if he leans in just about an inch. Close enough to be sure Sam knows what he's doing, giving him time to protest.

Or not, as the case may be.

"Sammy," Dean says again, this time right against Sam's ear, his breath tickling. "You sure you don't wanna entertain me? Because I'm thinkin' maybe you do."

Sam huffs, looks over his shoulder, his nose rubbing Dean's cheek before Dean leans back. "Dude, did you get that from one of those stupid-ass movies? Seriously."

Dean grins. "Cheese is my middle name. Besides, it worked, didn't it?" He grabs the back of Sam's neck with one hand and kisses him, tongue sliding past any words of protest that might have been forthcoming.

The bed creaks as they move and in a minute or two, no one's bored anymore.


End file.
